Surety
by AshlynnCoy
Summary: Trip to Bespin flash fluff. It's been A DAY, but it's time Han and Leia made up their minds about something. H/L


"Don't take this the wrong way, Princess, but you don't look so great."

Her head still propped on her elbows where they rested on the dejarik table, Leia looked up at Han and shrugged.

"I'll be ok," she told him.

"But you're not ok right now."

Leia shook her head.

"No," she said, "I'm not." It had been a hell of a day and there was still a lot to process. She'd had it in her head that this was the end—she was ready and willing to die with her boots on, to stay in that already-compromised but still-somehow-functioning command center until the Empire came in and blew her into oblivion. But then Han had come charging in and had dragged her out of there and away to safety and…

She shuddered at the memory of how close she'd come.

"You saw him, didn't you?" Han asked, sliding onto the bench seat beside her. He was careful not to get too close; he knew her well enough to know not to crowd her when she was feeling this off-kilter.

"Yeah."

Han sighed. He'd only just recognized Darth Vader through his cockpit canopy as the Millennium Falcon struggled to take off from Echo Base. He'd hoped Leia had missed the glint of black helmet on the far side of the hangar bay. But there was little else Han's experience of the Princess that had ever triggered her quite like this. It had been a pretty safe assertion on his part that she'd caught a glimpse of him as they made their escape.

"Anything I can do?" he asked, reaching out a hand to squeeze lightly at the base of her neck. In the time he'd known her, she'd come to respond to this treatment one of two ways: she'd either relax into it or shrug him off and storm away in some semblance of a huff. Lately it had been more and more the former.

Between the reality of what had transpired between them since their escape from the Empire on Hoth and her rare admission that she wasn't currently ok, Han figured a little neck rub was a safe bet.

Leia leaned into his touch, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as she began to roll her head back and forth.

"That right there," she said, gesturing with a nod to the massage he was performing, "that's a good start."

"Yeah, ok," Han replied, glad he'd guessed correctly as to how she'd receive his attention. "We'll start here." He continued rubbing her neck for a minute before scooting a little closer to her. He reached up then with both hands and began to knead gently at her shoulders.

Leia closed her eyes. This felt nice. It was a foreign but welcome feeling—the certainty that she was safe enough to let herself really relax. Han's fingers on her neck and shoulders gave her something to focus on, a way to make herself _not_ think about how close she'd come to death, or worse, just hours before.

Her breathing grew calmer—deep and even. And Han could feel the knots and tension in her back and neck beginning to ease.

"You know, it's getting late," he said. "Could I talk you into bed, maybe?"

Leia chuckled under her breath and tilted her head just enough to meet his gaze.

"You want me to go to bed with you?" she asked, just enough amusement in her voice to tell him she wasn't offended by the suggestion, but not enough to tell him anything more.

Han laughed softly, taking his hands from her shoulders and folding them on the table. He wasn't sure if that had been a heckle or a genuine inquiry. He thought it a safer bet to presume the former, but based on the events of the past several hours, he also didn't want to close any doors he'd prefer remained open.

"Nah," he replied, "just in general. I'll only be there too if you want me to be."

Leia kept her eyes on Han, her gaze lingering just long enough to make him slightly uncomfortable. He wasn't sure what she was going to say next, and he was beginning not to care so much. She just needed to say _something_ or else very soon he might begin to visibly squirm.

"Ok," she said softly, "yeah. I think… yeah, I want." Leia nodded again and then moved to stand, scooting off the far side of the bench. She looked back at Han, who hadn't made any move at all to come along, and frowned.

He realized he probably looked like a dolt—sitting there with his jaw slack and his eyes wide. He was sure he had heard that correctly, but he'd been altogether unprepared for that to be her reply. Wanting to seem neither over eager nor at all resistant to the idea, he was careful to get up purposefully as he looked her in the eye and asked,

"You sure?"

Leia nodded.

"I am," she said. Her voice was steady and sure, neither eager nor hesitant. She'd made a decision; Leia Organa was never one to second-guess herself. "I'm sure," she told him. "Let's go to bed." Leia reached out her hand, taking hold of Han's as soon as he was within reach.

He squeezed her fingers as he smiled down at her.

"All right," he said back, "let's go to bed."


End file.
